


all twisted up and bent out of shape

by celestial_nova



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different Mastermind (Dangan Ronpa), Blood and Violence, Character Study, F/M, I PROMISE ITS NOT EXPLICIT, I think that’s it, Implied Sexual Content, Insanity, Lowercase, Mastermind Kirigiri Kyoko, Mastermind Naegi Makoto, Mild Sexual Content, forgive me Father for I have sinned, hooooooo boy, its pretty vague guys don’t worry, kinda masochistic makoto, kinda sadistic kyoko, theyre just your average psychopath couple nothing to see here, too many hyphens and parentheses sjdjakjd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 06:15:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21351589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestial_nova/pseuds/celestial_nova
Summary: they are the emperor and empress of an ashen kingdom
Relationships: Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59





	all twisted up and bent out of shape

red looks wonderful on her, makoto muses, his eyes trailing up and down her body. it’s not a bright, clashing red - that would be too sharp next to the soft and pale hues of her eyes, hair, and skin. it’s more subdued, something dark and dull, a marriage of gray and crimson - a faded, morbid color that dims your vision whenever you focus on it for too long. 

(it’s the color of the blood pooling at her feet, spilling from the cracks between the tiles in the floor; gushing from his lips, carrying words of praise and adoration like souls down the river styx.) 

kyoko’s lips paint a trail down his throat, and he feels his skin burning beneath her touch. he’s at her mercy, kisses pressed against critical veins - open and defenseless and _vulnerable_. she could rip her teeth into his skin and kill him in an instant if she wanted to (and maybe she does, and _oh_, wouldn’t that be _despairful_, to kill the only one you love, the only one who understands you?).

she sinks her teeth down where his neck meets his shoulders instead, just deep enough to draw beads of blood up through his skin. she doesn’t kiss the wound to soothe it, or provide any sort of comfort; she lets it sting and fester, the pain sending his mind spiralling into an overdrive of pleasure. 

“i love you, kyoko,” he tells her, breathless, as if she didn’t already know. as if he hasn’t told her a thousand times, hasn’t carved it into the world he destroyed for her. but he says it anyway, relishing in the sound of her name; the shiver that runs down his spine when she looks up at him, sharp violet eyes that swim with saccharine adoration. 

“i love you too,” she murmurs with a carnelian smile, his blood smeared onto her lips like crude lipstick, and makoto feels so goddamn _lucky_. kyoko always is, and always has been, so, _so_ beautiful, but her best look has always been bloodstained. 

her gloved hands slip under his two-toned blazer, sliding it off of his shoulders and down his arms as her lips trail back up to meet his. she tastes like copper, salt-laced and tangy - a kiss of death, both of their lips coated red. her fingers drift to the zipper of his hoodie, and when they linger, he imagines them clasping around his neck, squeezing the life out of him with that sadistic grin he’s always loved; he shudders happily at the phantom pain.

he is hers. her partner, her lover, the king to her overruling queen. he may be the puppetmaster - the ruins of their world tied to his fingertips - but in the end, she owned every part of him, like a soul under the devil’s contract. he’d do anything she asked of him, kill anyone she asked him to; he’d die for her, over and over and over (and maybe that was a little selfish, since he’s fantasized about obtaining that anguish, the final despair of death, ever since he can remember). 

he loves her, he loves her, he loves her he loves her _he loves her_. as his hoodie comes undone, he breathes her name over and over, like a mantra. like a prayer. he worships her, sick and unholy, a devout follower of the sins that drip from her fingertips. she tears his shirt away and traces those sins onto his skin, patterns of sacrilege, tattoos of desecration. 

they make sick and twisted love, right there in the trial room where they condemned the hope of the world to execution - a blasphemous homage to the dead. 

and the world crumbles around them.

**Author's Note:**

> y'all nasty
> 
> ajdjksjd jk jk, i wrote this after all *sweats*
> 
> so uhhhh, yeah. um. yeah this is a thing. i’ve wanted to write mastermind!naegiri for sooooo long, but i didn’t imagine it getting this... intense. blame my friend on tumblr for that skdjksjdk we traded back and forth headcanons and they said “what if... makoto was a huge masochist and kyoko was a sadist” and here we are. 
> 
> at least it’s not the most unhealthy of relationships
> 
> also this is high-key the same thing as a fic by sunflower_8 ksndkwjd ITS SO GOOD GO READ IT https://archiveofourown.org/works/20929727
> 
> sorry for rambling whoops, i hope everyone who reads this is having a good day, and if you aren’t i hope it gets better!!!


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